Miles has the place closed up and me in his passenger seat in less than two minutes. He brings a clean rag dampened with cool water for me to hold on my face until we get to the hospital.
“Are you creative?” I ask him as we start driving. “I’m in the middle of blinding—and might I say sobering—pain right now, so I thought you might muster up some creativity as to how I almost lost an eye so I don’t have to say I walked into a door.”
Miles barks out a laugh.
“Not the reaction I was hoping for,” I say.
He shakes his head, his grin giving no sign of disappearing.
“Fucking ‘Swan Song’ he says. You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
I let my head fall against the seat, closing my eyes to shut out the pain.
“I’m not following. But I appreciate the laughter. That helps.”
“It’s just. You won’t get it. It’s a Gilmore Girls reference. It’s a Maggie thing.”
The mention of her name sends a different kind of pain rocketing through me.
“Shit.” I laugh with the realization. “Is that the name of the one where Jess gets the shit kicked out of him by a swan? I have three older sisters,” I tell him. “Megan, the bookworm, we call her Rory. All three of them are team Logan, by the way.”
At this Miles bursts into laughter. “Fucking Maggie,” he says, his smile broad and knowing. “In that episode, Jess won’t tell Rory how he got a black eye…”
“Fuck,” I say, not sure if I’m proud or ashamed at knowing exactly which episode he’s talking about, let alone him thinking I’m Jess—too proud to let Maggie see the real me. “I’ve hit rock bottom. Haven’t I?” I try to laugh at the whole situation, but it hurts too much—not just my eye, but everywhere.
Since I can’t sink much lower, I decide to lay it all on the table. “Can I ask you something?”
His smile fades immediately. He knows what’s coming.
“We’re friends,” he says. “Me and Maggie. The way she acted tonight, it’s self-preservation. I don’t agree with how she handled it, but I know where she’s coming from.”
“But you were more than friends once, right?”
His hesitation is answer enough, and I’m ready to take back the question. But I’d be a hypocrite to judge her when she never judged me. Not until tonight, at least.
“Look,” he starts. “Things have not been easy for Maggie. I was there when she needed someone, but it was only one time. We both knew we could only ever be friends, and that’s all we’ve been ever since. Not that it should matter, but it was six months ago.”
My shoulders sag with a sigh. I can live with this, but it doesn’t change what happened tonight.
“And you like dudes, too?” I remember that first night at the coffee shop, the blond guy he left with.
Miles laughs again. “I like people,” he says. “Everyone’s welcome in my book.”
We pull into the parking lot of the ER.
“I’ll come back to get you,” he says to me. “If you’ll be okay getting yourself inside. I have to make a quick stop at the bus station. Long story, and not mine to tell. And as far as what you should tell them about what you did to yourself? I think I’d start with the truth.”
“I’m in love with her,” I say. “How’s that for truth?”
“It’s a start.” He unlocks the doors. “You need me to walk you in?”
I shake my head. “I’m good. Thanks for the ride. I can call my sister to take me home.”
“Uh-uh,” Miles says. “You’re not going home. I’m taking you to Maggie. Plus, I need to make sure you’re okay—legal reasons since it was the coffee-shop door that attacked you.”
Despite the pain, I laugh. “What if she won’t talk to me?” I ask.
“She may not. But she’ll at least have to listen.”
I nod before getting out of the car. Then I make my way through the sliding doors of the emergency room, no creative story planned. Just the truth.
…
Maggie
Bang! Bang! Bang!
My eyes spring open, and I bolt upright on the couch. My heart thuds against my rib cage, but when I look at Paige on the floor next to me, she barely stirs.
The sound comes again, not the terrifying bang that must have been a product of drifting off. Only a quiet tap, tap, tap against my door. Miles.
“Coming!” I whisper-shout, trying not to wake Paige. When my eyes adjust, I focus on the microwave’s clock to check the time. It’s after two in the morning. Where the hell has he been?
I have my answer when I open the door, gasping at the sight of Griffin standing next to Miles, his beautiful eye, the one so recently healed, now an angry mix of purple and red. Coarse, unforgiving black thread holds the skin together where it split. The dark patch under his other eye tells of his weariness, and I have to brace my hand against the wall before my knees give out. Everything in me pulls and twists, urging me toward him, but I cement my feet in place and steady myself enough to speak.
“Miles, you didn’t…”
“God, Maggie. No. Just, no. I can’t believe you’d even think—”